


Two Great Tastes...

by McKay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 03:20:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10958571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McKay/pseuds/McKay
Summary: Remus must sacrifice something important to him to make Snape believes that he loves him.





	Two Great Tastes...

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2004.

"I don't believe you." 

Remus felt his jaw unhinge, and it was several seconds before he could gather his wits enough to speak again. Fueled by fire whiskey and too many years of celibacy and unrequited longing, he had finally worked up the nerve to pour out his heart to Severus, words of love and devotion spilling from his lips in a less than coherent torrent as nervousness and doubt stripped away his usual calm eloquence. 

"What?" It wasn't quite the strident demand he was hoping for; to his own ears, he sounded more like a kicked puppy. 

"I said I don't believe you, Lupin," Severus said, speaking slowly and enunciating each word as he did when speaking to a particularly dense student. "Why should I? For all I know, this is just another one of your pranks at my expense."

Remus drew himself up with as much of his tattered dignity that remained to him. "First, I never pranked you. It was always James or Sirius' ideas." 

"Ah, I see. You were merely an innocent bystander."

"One particular time, yes, I was," Remus said, meeting Severus' gaze and holding it. "The other times... I'm sorry. I should have stood up to them and told them they were out of line, but I didn't want to lose their friendship. The biggest regrets of my life come from the times when I remained silent instead of speaking up. This isn't a prank, Severus. I meant every word, and I'll do anything to prove it to you."

"Anything?" Severus' voice was silken -- a bad omen, Remus knew. When Severus used that particularly deceptive tone, it usually meant he was about to strike where it hurt most. 

"Anything," Remus repeated firmly. "I'll take Veritaserum, if you like. Whatever it takes."

"Oh, no -- nothing so easy as Veritaserum," Severus replied, a tiny smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "If you want a chance with me, Lupin, then you're damned well going to earn it the hard way."

Oh, bloody hell. Knowing Severus, "the hard way" would make fighting a Hungarian Horntail seem like a cakewalk. 

Lifting his chin, he stared at Severus with determination and defiance in his eyes. Whatever it was, he would do it. "Fine. Tell me what I have to do."

"You have to give up chocolate."

Remus blinked, unable to believe what he had just heard, and then he all but visibly deflated. "Forever?" he asked weakly. 

"Forever. Not just chocolate, either-- all sweets. And you cannot tell anyone why you've done it. I won't have them fawning all over you for being noble and romantic and chastising me for being cruel to their pet werewolf."

Briefly, Remus wondered if Severus would agree to let him fight a Horntail instead. For a moment, his resolve wavered; his sweet tooth was prodigious, and the mere thought of going the rest of his life without another sweet was almost too much to bear. But then he looked at Severus and thought of how long he had loved this proud, arrogant, infuriating man. If Severus had absolutely no interest in pursuing a relationship with him, he would have said so in the most scathing manner possible, hammering the point home until Remus' ego was a sticky patch on the floor. That he was giving Remus a chance to prove himself was, in a twisted way, a good sign, and that Severus would require a test of some kind wasn't really a surprise to Remus. Considering their history, it was to be expected that Severus wouldn't believe him without some kind of proof.

"How will I know when I've passed your test?" he asked. 

"I'll let you know when I'm satisfied that you are sincere in your resolve."

Remus nodded. He could do this. He would give up sweets, and when Severus realized that he was serious, he would have Severus to feast upon, and that would be better than even Honeyduke's best chocolate. "Very well. I agree to your terms. As of this moment, I'm giving up sweets."

Snorting, Severus turned to leave, his robes billowing as he swept towards the door. "I shan't wish you good luck, as I have my doubts that you'll last more than a couple of days."

"I have enough incentive to last forever," he called out, smugly satisfied when he noticed Severus' step falter on his way out.

*~*~*

Remus stared longingly at the multi-layered double fudge cake with dark chocolate icing, decorated with perfect curlicues of mint chocolate; his mouth was watering, and his hand itched to reach out and swipe a forefinger along the base so he could taste the icing. 

"An excellent idea, Severus!" Albus exclaimed jovially as he cut himself a large slice. "My thanks for your suggested addition to this evening's menu." 

Twisting in his chair, Remus glared at Severus, who was transferring a slice to his plate with fastidious care as if to avoid dropping a single crumb. "You are a sadistic bastard," he said, the words ground out through clenched teeth. 

Severus merely smirked at him. "I did say you would have to earn what you want the hard way. If, however, you have changed your mind, the cake is right there." He held out the serving knife, offering Remus the handle, but Remus eyed it as if Severus were offering him a live cobra and shook his head. 

"You aren't having any?" Albus leaned over and peered at him. "Aren't you feeling well, dear boy? When I saw this cake, I thought the rest of us would have to fight our way past you to get a single slice of our own." 

Remus mustered a weak smile. "I'm too full for dessert."

And so it went. It seemed that the House Elves managed to create a new and enticing chocolate confection every evening, and every evening, Remus sat and silently coveted it while everyone around him loaded up their plates and rhapsodized about how good it was. For the first week, he had to make up excuses for his refusal until he finally said that he was on a diet and cutting down on sweets. That had garnered him several dubious looks, and he was, quite frankly, surprised that no one came out and asked why he was on a diet when he had only just gained enough weight to stop looking like a malnourished scarecrow. 

Typically, Hermione was the only one to ask. When he refused the chocolate biscuits she always served when he came for tea because she knew he liked them, he gave her the diet excuse, and she had launched into a series of questions about eating disorders and offered to get him some pamphlets the next time she went into the Muggle world. 

Meanwhile, Remus' body protested the loss, and he felt what could only be symptoms of withdrawal; he experienced raging headaches that only one of the stronger potions available could eradicate, and he was more irritable, his usual sense of pleasant calm turning into a thin veneer that was cracked by anything from a student not doing his or her homework to Minerva bidding him good morning. There were moments when he thought he might be willing to kill -- in the literal sense -- for a tiny square of Honeyduke's dark. He could practically feel it softening on his tongue, the liquidized chocolate sliding down his throat, its bittersweet taste lingering on his lips. 

When he realized he was growing aroused, he forced himself to stop thinking about it.

After two weeks, the torture by desserts stopped, and the torture by temptation began. Bars of chocolate began appearing on his desk -- dark chocolate, milk chocolate, plain, with almonds, mint chocolate, caramel filled. The supply seemed endless. At first, he swept them into the nearest drawer, trying to avoid looking at them. But one day, after a month without sweets, he sat down at his desk and stared at the innocuous bar resting on top of his copy of battered copy of Wandering With Werewolves, which was battered because he had needed something to vent his irritability and frustration on during the worst of his withdrawal, and throwing it across the room when he read yet another erroneous passage helped. It really helped.

But at the moment, it was just him and the slab of Honeyduke's Peanut butter Swirl. No one would know if he ate it, he thought, but quickly dismissed the notion. Severus would know. Remus didn't know how -- possibly a charm of some kind on the wrapper -- but he would know. That was, after all, the whole point of sending him the chocolate privately to test his resolve. With a wistful sigh, he picked up the bar and ran it beneath his nose, inhaling deeply. He didn't think he had ever smelled anything so divine in his life; the rich scent of the chocolate wafted to him, filling his senses, and he wanted nothing more than to rip away the wrapper and stuff as much of the bar into his mouth as he could fit. 

It would be so easy. Just a little tear, and a month of need and craving would be ended. Along with any chance he might have had to be with Severus. 

A small, regretful smile curved his mouth as he opened the top drawer and dropped the bar in it with the rest of them, shutting the drawer firmly. He didn't know how much longer it would be before Severus relented and accepted the fact that Remus had meant what he said, but when that day came, it would be the reward for all his will power. 

By the time two months had passed, so had his withdrawal symptoms. He was no longer moody and headachey, and he had thrown away his copy of Lockhart's book, his need for something to hurl having passed. It was easier to refuse dessert, and when he threw away all the bars of chocolate that had accumulated in his desk drawer, he did so without a twinge of regret. He still wanted sweets, but he no longer craved them as he had at first. 

He said nothing to Severus about their agreement; he knew Severus well enough to know that prodding would annoy him, and he was content to let Severus come to him in his own time. He did have the occasional doubt that he was putting himself through this for nothing, and that this was, in fact, Severus' revenge, but he pushed that thought aside when it arose and didn't let it tempt him into caving in to his desire for one little taste of chocolate. Although some might call him a gullible fool for it, he trusted Severus and had faith that Severus would fulfill his end of the bargain. 

And then one Saturday evening while he was settled in his chair by the fire, a glass of wine in hand as he pored over the latest issue of Transfiguration Today, there came a knock at his door. Setting aside both the magazine and his wine, he padded barefoot to answer, expecting to see Minerva or perhaps Albus, expecting the visit to be related to school or House business -- but when he opened the door, Severus stood there, his hands clasped behind his back. 

"What a pleasant surprise," Remus said, smiling as he stood aside to let Severus in. "But if you're here to grumble at me for taking points from Slytherin yesterday, I'm afraid it won't do any good." 

"I'm not here about the points, Lupin," Severus declared, striding into the room and turning swiftly before Remus could catch a glimpse of what he was holding behind his back.

A surge of hope arose in Remus' chest, but he kept his expression and tone neutral in case he was wrong. "Then why are you here?"

"I told you that I would inform you when I was satisfied that you were sincere in your resolve." 

"Are you satisfied, then?" Remus took a step forward, wanting to reach out, but not quite certain it was all right yet. 

"No, but I imagine by the end of this evening, we both shall be." Severus drew his hands from behind his back to reveal that he held a bowl of melted dark chocolate in one hand and a brush in the other. 

"Is this part of the test?" Remus asked, trying not to drool over the chocolate. 

"The test is over," Severus said. "This is part of the reward." 

Starved for both sweets and Severus, Remus didn't know which he wanted to gobble up first. "Bedroom," he growled, grabbing the bowl and the brush from Severus' hands. "Naked. Now."

Some time later, Remus sprawled languidly in bed, sticky and sated, unable to keep a beatific smile from wreathing his face. Releasing a gusty sigh of contentment, he rolled onto his side and flung one arm around Severus, who surreptitiously moved closer and nestled into Remus' embrace, the barest hint of a smile tilting up his own lips. Darting his tongue out, Remus lapped away a smudge of chocolate at the corner of Severus' mouth. 

Chocolate and Severus -- two of his favorite flavors. Fortunately for him, they blended together perfectly, and he knew he would never go through withdrawal for either of them ever again.


End file.
